


It Should Have Been Me

by Galaxy_Gays



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Goodbyes, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Grief/Mourning, Klance (wait for it), Langst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxy_Gays/pseuds/Galaxy_Gays
Summary: “It should have been me.”A common thought that passes through the minds of the truly grieved. A life gone too soon, and a life that is empty without the company of that one who is now tragically stolen from this universe. Too soon.That feeling isn’t felt alone. Nay Penthos, the spirit of grief and lamentations, hears the cries they cast into the night. He can taste the salt of the tears on their cheeks, and he in turn feels their sorrows with all the force of a thousand hurts. He weeps silently next to them, yet they do not know it. They just feel a little less alone, and for many they think that feeling to be the souls of their loved ones providing them peace, thus weeping a little less intensely. Penthos does not smile, but he moves on to the next mourning parent, lover, friend. He does not stop crying.-Penthos, the greek spirit of grief, visits Lance on a night soon after Allura's death. And offers him a choice.





	1. Choice

_ “It should have been me _ .”

A common thought that passes through the minds of the truly grieved. A life gone too soon, and a life that is empty without the company of that one who is now tragically stolen from this universe. Too soon.

_ “It should have been me _ ,” implies that the bereaved had a choice and that they chose wrong and now they must pay the price. That is not the case, it would seem. No, more likely, an event they had no control over in the first place occurred and they are simply looking to blame themselves because they know it was nobody’s fault. The guilt they feel is real and unnecessary, but it hurts them.  _ “It should have been me. _ ”

But it couldn’t have been, could it? There was no way for you to take their place-- this was their demise, it was not meant to be yours. You did your best, why do you despair like this?

Logic is just as useful as nonsense when a loved one dies. You cannot help but feel this way, you cannot help to yearn for the life you were meant to have with them. Or the life they were destined to grow into.

That feeling isn’t felt alone. Nay Penthos, the spirit of grief and lamentations, hears the cries they cast into the night. He can taste the salt of the tears on their cheeks, and he in turn feels their sorrows with all the force of a thousand hurts. He weeps silently next to them, yet they do not know it. They just feel a little less alone, and for many they think that feeling to be the souls of their loved ones providing them peace, thus weeping a little less intensely. Penthos does not smile, but he moves on to the next mourning parent, lover, friend. He does not stop crying.

This night, however, Penthos heard a loud cry, a grieving man whose pain was so intense that he started to whimper upon discovering him. He fluttered quietly through the air, gasping as he came to the source of the agony for his mind began to ache. The spirit landed on the bench beside him as he stared up at a beautiful, flowering tree.

_ “Allura, _ ” he choked out in desperation, “ _ God, it should have been me. They need you here. I need you here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry it should have been me.” _

Penthos regarded the man with sincerity. He hadn’t felt this kind of honesty in someone’s cries for a reversal since Orpheus lost Eurydice on the night of their wedding. He weeped even harder for it.

The man, who wore bright blue markings on his cheeks, rose to touch the tree and Penthos could have sworn that for a brief moment, the tree glowed. The man must have noticed it too, for his head fell against the bark as he clutched at his chest. His desperation was enough to pull Penthos into existence, a strange surprise for the long unseen soul.

“Lance, why do you grieve with such terrible loss?”

The man, Lance, whipped around to face the spirit that had snuck up behind him. He looked even more distressed than before.

“Who… who are you?” He nervously asked, keeping his back close enough to the tree that it brushed his jacket, offering security.

“I am Penthos, spirit of grief and lamentations, and you my friend are most certainly grieving. Who was she?” Penthos now had tears streaming down his face so intensely that they fell like rain against the paved walkway, and despite this he he spoke as if he had no such condition. His voice was calm and soothing, but his words carried an emotional weight. Lance felt himself trusting the spirit right away, feeling as though he were an old friend. This was not the first time Lance had grieved. It would not be the last. 

Lance turned back around to the tree, for the tree somehow  _ felt  _ like she did. Their energies hummed with the same tune, and he found this to be his only comfort.

“Her name was Allura. She sacrificed herself to save all of reality, every universe: every life. She… I loved her. I  _ love  _ her. I wanted it to be me instead.” Lance choked on his last sentence, willing his eyes to stop crying but try as he might they continued to drown in tears.

Penthos nodded as he started to circle the base of the tree, pink flowers springing up everywhere his saltless tears fell. Grief is a cycle, the death of one inevitably leads to the life of another. 

“She loved you just the same,” he smiled softly, examining the tree with more scrutiny. He could tell she had given life back to its roots, and now it radiated gratitude. He found himself wishing he could have met this ‘Allura,’ maybe she could have healed him too and restored a semblance of life and love into his cold form. He had tired of feeling pain. Penthos looked back at his companion, who was regarding him with a despairing curiosity.

“Why have you come here?” Lance asked, some part of him praying that he brought with him a solution. Penthos twirled his fingers, the breeze shifting with them, and glanced down at his feet.

“The greek gods and goddesses of old have long fallen. They are no more real than Superman in this age. People stopped believing and in turn they stopped having power over the mortal realm,” he paused, deep in the memories of another life, before continuing, “but I am the spirit of grief, which is the one thing that will always persist as long as there is life. I wander only this earth, but trust me when I say that there is not a single place on this planet that is free from what we feel here tonight. I feel the heartbreak of failed relationships, the pain of losing a job-- and worst of all, the absolute torture of losing those you have loved. I know, Lance, I know what you are experiencing. I know and I am so sorry.”

Lance felt another round of tears prick at his red eyes. His knees hit the ground as he suddenly felt very weak.

“Is that all?” Lance croaked out, his throat sore and his body tired.

Penthos hesitated, not wanting to share his final proposal, “Lance, sometimes, when someone’s grief is strong enough, I find myself having enough power to… change what has been done.”

Lance snapped his head up and grabbed fruitlessly at the spirit’s misty arm. There was something now that Penthos had not wanted to give him in his eyes: a glint of hope.

“Change, spirit, what do you mean change?” Penthos vanished into the air and reformed behind Lance. He felt himself shaking slightly.  _ Peculiar _ , he wondered at the power of Lance’s misery.

“You wish that it would have been you instead of her. I can try to make that happen. You would be the one to sacrifice your life, and she would be the one here before me now,” he emphasized the last part, trying to make it clear what he would be giving up.

Lance turned to face Penthos, still collapsed on the ground. He raised a hand to his forehead, half trying to soothe his headache and half trying to understand what was happening.

“You can bring Allura back? You can make that happen?” He fought to gain clarity, but this promise was too much for him to process. He could do it. It could be him.

“Yes, like I said, but I don’t wish for you to agree. You are needed here Lance, so greatly. You have friends and family that couldn’t bear that loss.”  _ I couldn’t bear that loss  _ Penthos thought almost selfishly, thinking of all the people he would have to keep vigil over if he went through with this. He regretted telling him of this choice, but he had to offer. That was his purpose.

Lance rose unsteadily to his feet, ignoring the warnings Penthos gave. He felt guilt form in the back of his mind, but his grief was too powerful of a rival. He would have followed Allura across the universe and tonight he would bring Allura back to the universe.

“What do I have to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything,” his voice was strong, but he wavered on his feet as he stood again.

“You just have to give me a kiss,” Penthos sighed, defeated. Lance blushed.

“W-what?” He leaned back, confusion painted on his face. He thought the spirit would give him some sort of task or maybe ask him to do literally  _ anything _ but that.

“You ever hear of the kiss of death, Lance? I’m going to be taking your soul, a simple handshake won’t make this deal happen,” Penthos said quietly, praying to the memory of Hades that the man would back down. 

But Lance nodded his approval, moving forwards. He stopped halfway, to the surprise of Penthos, and looked apprehensive. The guilt had won out in the back of his mind for a single moment.

“Can I say goodbye first? I want my people to know I love them before I go. Allura didn’t get that from everyone, I want to be able to do it. Please, Penthos, I just-- I have to do this. For them,” Lance glanced up into the swirling whites of the spirit’s eyes. He tracked the endless river of tears springing from his eyes and waited.

Penthos smiled sadly, “of course, Lance.”

Internally, he rejoiced. He hoped that in the hours that he made his amends he would realize the mistake he was about to make. 

Lance’s lips twitched, almost smirking. He wasn’t happy, he didn’t feel smug. He felt his grief, his guilt and with it all: resolve. He would do this for her. He accepted his own fate, for as long as she got to come back. Lead the new Altea, help her people, live on. Even if she would have to live on without him.

He waved goodbye to Penthos, who began to dissipate into the air, feeling the pull of another bereaved human. 

“Thank you,” he whispered to the wind, flower petals falling down on him softly. It was time to say goodbye.


	2. Family

The sun had barely risen when Nadia came running down to the kitchen at the smell of pancakes. Sylvio hot on her tail, they both tumbled to the floor and looked up at the feast before them: pancakes, eggs, a variety of fruits, buttered toast, sausage, and oddly enough garlic knots.

“Uncle Lance!” They shouted as he came into view, struggling to carry a multitude of plates.

“There’s my favorite niece and my favorite nephew in the whole world,” he cooed as he set everything down on the table and turned to give them each a big hug, “never forget that.”

“Uncle Lance, we’re your only niece and nephew in the world,” Nadia humphed as she crossed her small arms across her chest. Lance chuckled and gave her a pat on the head.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said as he scooped them both into his arms and tickled their sides. They giggled as Lisa walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes, followed by a tired looking Luis.

“Kids, what are you doing up so early… and what is that delicious smell?” His eyes shot open as he looked from the food on the table to Lance’s embarrassed face.

“Little brother, you did this? I don’t believe it, where are you hiding Hunk? Why are you taking credit for his work?” Luis looked his brother up and down with a scrutinizing look. Lance was wearing a flour covered apron and his hair was tousled from the kids he carried in his arms, still squirming to attack him.

“I’m wounded Luis,” he feigned outrage as he gave the two trouble makers to Lisa’s awaiting arms, “Hunk taught me a thing or two about cooking and presentation while we were up in space. And you know I’ve been making garlic knots since I was 5.” He flashed his brother a grin, spinning a spatula around in his hand before dropping it on the floor. Luis shook his head, smiling.

“Somethings never change then, huh Lance?” Chuckling, he sat himself down, the rest of his family scrambling to join him; Nadia and Sylvio sneakily pulling pieces of watermelon into their mouths when no one was looking.

Marco wandered into the kitchen next, not caring to wait for anyone’s permission to pop a garlic knot into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully as Lance pushed him into a chair, grumbling about manners.

“Not half bad, Lance, though I am surprised you found it in you to get out of bed before me. What happened to your precious beauty sleep?” He raised an eyebrow as Lance rolled his eyes.

“Believe it or not, but I actually like to do nice things for my family,” he snorted while flipping an egg on the stove. Marco didn’t get a chance to respond, about to retort something about how the only time he had cooked anything for him was on April Fool’s and that day he almost wrung Lance’s neck, because their mom walked into the room.

“Lance, this smells wonderful, thank you,” she said happily, giving him a kiss on his cheek. He didn’t pull away blushing like usual, saying he was too old for kisses like that. If anyone noticed, they didn’t bring it up.

“I thought I would just do something nice for everyone. Have a family breakfast-- I miss having everyone together in the same room,” he spoke quickly, and the room fell silent. There was this unspoken thought among them:  _ everyone but Allura.  _ Rachel broke the quiet, dragging her feet into the kitchen with the energy of a dying horse.

“Why are you all up so early,” she mumbled, not hesitating to throw herself into the chair next to Marco and study one of the eggs. “Mmmm these look nice though, I rescind my resentment.”

“Thanks Rachel, I really appreciate that you find it in your heart to forgive our absolutely despicable behavior at the sight of food,” Lance said teasingly. Rachel shrugged and started making faces at Nadia, who was trying to imitate Lance.

“Mom, where's Poppop? I thought he’d be up by now,” Lance asked, pulling himself into a chair as he set down the last plate of food.

“He is up, dear, he’s just taking care of Kaltenecker. He loves that cow.”

“Too bad Veronica isn’t here, I’m sure she would love one of these garlic knots,” Lisa said, wiping fruit off of Sylvio’s dirty face.

“I’m actually heading out to the Garrison today, I’ll bring her some,” Lance reassured his sister-in-law.

“What’s taking you to the Garrison, Lance?” Luis inquired, fixing his brother with one of his looks.

“Relax, Luis, I’m just going to say hi to everyone. I have a right to miss my friends,” he paused, “and my sister too, I suppose.” Rachel gave his arm a whack, grinning.

“Uncle Lance, can we come too? Please?” Nadia begged from across the table. Only Marco noticed Lance’s wistful smile as he spoke next.

“Maybe next time, bumble bee.”

The table didn’t have to wait long for Poppop to reappear, and when he did, they dug into the food with relish. Everyone complimented Lance’s work at least once, and he beamed. He felt very content, thinking he could stay like this forever just his family and him. But he knew he had to keep moving, he had more goodbyes to say, so instead he laughed along with them and savored every moment. Every interaction. Because it would be his last time seeing them.

“I have a toast to make,” Marco stood up.

“To Lance, my little brother, who has fought the evils of space and won. Who has lost a lot but will never lose us because family is forever,” he raised his glass, “Abuelita would be proud of who you have become today, just as we all are.” A chorus of “to Lance” carried around the table, and Lance felt tears spring to his eyes.

“I love you guys,” he choked out, the weight of what he was about to do hitting him fully. His altean marks began to glow, which made Rachel gasp.

“And we love you, my son,” Poppop replied, “and we love who you have become.”

-

Lance took a deep breath as he stood at the threshold of the Garrison, bag of garlic knots in hand. He was nervous and scared and hurting. He didn’t know how to say goodbye to everyone. With his family, it had been easier. He had months up in space to go over and over again in his head what he would have said to them had he been given the time to say goodbye before Voltron. The words came naturally there, but the emotions had been more difficult. Even now, if he thought about them for a second he would surely begin to cry.

With his team, it was different. They were his family by choice, his friends who had risked his life for so many times, who had risked their own lives just as much. The thought of telling them he was giving all that up was not something he could do.

He found Veronica easily, joking around with the MFE pilots. She looked happy, in her element. She was living out her biggest dream, and Lance hoped that with what time he had left she would stay smiling. Kinkade spotted him first.

“Lance! Hey, what are you doing here? It’s been too long, buddy. No one else ever wants to model for my photos.” 

“I ask all the time!” James threw up his arms at his friend, but Kinkade just chuckled. 

“I meant someone who actually looks good in photos,” he told James, who started to yell at him while Kinkade kept laughing. Rizavi said a quick hello to Lance before moving in to break up the two star cadets. Leifsdottir simply waved goodbye to everyone and walked away, muttering something about the weather.

Veronica turned to her brother, sighing.

“Now that you’ve caused  _ this _ ,” she gestured toward the all out brawl that was occuring on the bay’s floor, “what brings you to the Garrison, Lance?” 

He sheepishly held out the bag of garlic knots. 

“I brought you a snack at Lisa’s request,” he began, but Veronica looked at him unconvinced, “and I wanted to say hi to everyone. I miss them.” He finished, throwing up his hands. Her expression softened, and she put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay that you miss them, I know how much they mean to you.” She pulled him into a hug. He held on a little tighter than usual.

“Thanks for the garlic knots. Now go on, go see your people while I take care of mine,” she ushered him off as she prepared to either break up the fight or join.

“I love you, Veronica,” he said over his shoulder. She blinked, not used to Lance being so direct with her.

“I love you too, Lance, I’ll see you later. And tell mom to send me some new clothes! The ones at the mall are either burned or owned by a greedy alien who wants my soul in exchange for a handbag.”

“What was that? I’m too far down the hallway to hear you, oh no!”

“Lance you heard what I said! Lance! Wait Nadia no-”

Lance turned the corner, his heart heavy. He’d miss Veronica, his whole family, so much.

“Yeah, Veronica,” he whispered to himself, “see you later.”

-

Penthos watched from afar as Lance said goodbye to his family, his spirit growing cold. 

“Oh, Lance,” he muttered, “why can’t you just stay?”

-

 


	3. Gratitude, Goodbyes

“If you’re looking for Katie, she’s with Matt working on their new project down in Lab 5A,” Colleen said, bemused by the flustered man before her. Lance had been roaming the Garrison looking for Pidge, just now thinking to ask Colleen Holt, who had put a tracker on Pidge the second she stepped foot back on Earth.

“Right, right, thank you. I’ll be, uh, in Lab 5A,” Lance awkwardly saluted to his friend’s mom and made a move for the door, his eyes fixed on the Altean flower in the glass terrarium ahead of him.

“Lance, wait,” Colleen sighed. He froze. He had never really spoken to the proclaimed ‘plant mom’ of the Atlas, and he didn’t know what she would want from him.

“I’m sorry that you lost Allura, no one as young as you should have to suffer through that,” she fiddled with the leaf of an Arusian herb, “and I wanted to say thank you for keeping my daughter safe while out in space. She speaks very highly of you.”   
Lance didn’t turn around, but he smiled softly.

“We kept each other safe, Mrs. Holt. And I think your daughter is one of the smartest people in the universe.”

“Call me Colleen... And Lance? Good luck out there.” She turned on her heel to go check on the flower or alien crop that needed her attention, making it easy for Lance to go.

He walked down the halls of the Atlas, mulling over Colleen’s words. They sounded so final, almost as if she knew what he was planning on doing.  _ But that’s impossible. _

_ - _

Colleen had seen that look before. She knew what it was because she remembered looking in the mirror one morning and seeing it herself, thinking that nothing could cure her grief. That day she had lost her daughter to space, just like she had lost her son and her husband. Her eyes stung from crying too much, but she couldn’t get them to stop. Penthos had visited her then.

_ “I could bring them back _ , _ ” he offered, not looking too pleased about it. _

_ “I don’t believe they’re dead,” she said, hollow, “because if they are, I might as well be too.” _

She shook her head, clearing it of the memory of that horrible day when she was at her lowest. She prayed that Lance wouldn’t meet the fate she had been so tempted to choose. She considered telling Katie to make sure he didn’t end up alone tonight, but she knew that in the end it was his choice. And if his own family wasn’t enough to stop him, nothing would be.

-

Lance’s feet echoed against the metal flooring. He kept running into unfamiliar face after unfamiliar face, all asking for a handshake or an autograph. Everyone was a big fan of Voltron, and normally Lance would eat up the attention; but he had a purpose, a goal in mind, and right now posing for the ladies was the last thing on his mind.

The clank of his boots rang with every step a deadening finality, increasing in volume until he stopped just right outside Lab 5A. He didn’t knock, rather he didn’t have to, as the door was already open as if the room itself was expecting him. He waltzed inside.

“Pidge?” He called out over the sound of steel being sawed in half. The noise was enough to make him cover his ears, which were thankfully still curved. “Pidge are you in here?”

The girl in question popped her shield covered head up from behind a counter, whipping her face mask up to reveal an impish grin and dirty glasses.

“Lance, is that you?” She stood, brushing lab dust off her clothes, shaking her new lab coat and causing screws to go everywhere. She stared loathingly at the mess she had created as Lance smirked.

“Pidge, green paladin, dear friend, robotic genius- how’s it going?” Lance put his elbows on her counter, and shot his friend an endearing look.

“Flattery, Lance, will get you nowhere. Ever. And it’s going as well as it can,” her face fell for a brief instance and Lance himself winced as they both remembered the reason they both were able to stand there, “I’m working on making a cybernetic friend with Matt right now. Don’t know what I’ll call it yet.” She showed Lance the blueprints and the chest she was working on when he walked in.

“I’m trying to have it imitate human biology as much as possible to make him more real, and that’s why I’m going to put the mainframe in the head and the power that keeps it alive,” she tapped the chest, “right here. As you can see, we’ve got a long ways to go.”

Lance studied the framework with wide eyes. It didn’t look like much yet, but he knew that Pidge would soon turn it into something incredible. “What are you doing here, Lance? I thought you were taking a break from all of this space stuff,” Pidge questioned her friend, fidgeting with some small Altean technology, courtesy of Coran.

“I am, right, am doing that, but do I really need a reason to visit one of my fellow paladins?”

Pidge prepared to fire back her ‘of course you need a reason’ retort, but he saw the strange look on Lance’s face and kept her mouth shut. The urge to kick him out of the lab in fear of him destroying something faded, and she bit her lip. She genuinely wanted to have some fun with her friend.

“I have something I’d like to try out, if you want to hang around for a bit. It’ll be like old times.”

“Oh Pidge, I don’t want to keep you, you and Matt have to build this robot-”

“Not a robot, and it’s no bother. Matt’s taking a break anyways, and I haven’t really seen you since... “ She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay, gremlin, lead the way to good times.”

“I told you not to call me that and it’s right over here,” Pidge called out behind her shoulder as she ducked behind a wall. Rummaging through a chest, she started tossing old tech over her shoulder in pursuit of treasure. She was searching for something important, and when she found it--

“Got it!”

“Enough with the mystery, what is it?” Lance asked as she came back with a large, flat disk that glowed blue in the center while the rest was pretty silver. It emanated some intense energy, meaning that the technology used behind its creation was pretty powerful. Pidge pushed her glasses up, preparing to launch into her explanation.

“This, Lance, was given to Matt from his special somebody. He was missing earth, blah blah blah it’s very cool and the tech is super interesting. The hyper-capacitor on this baby-”

“Pidge, point.”

“Fine. Basically it’s a very advanced hologram system, not unlike the one we had back in the Castle of Lions. This one, however, can let you see things, whole places that you remember and recreates everything about it. You can  _ feel _ the place the machine designs,” she tapped the disk twice, and small rod rose from the top, “put your finger here, think of what you want to see and it will do the rest.”

“That’s actually pretty cool Pidge, and when I say pretty cool I mean totally amazing! Where first?” Lance beamed, and Pidge felt content with that. Beaming Lance was much more normal than strange, sad looking Lance.

“I’ll let you choose first, because you came all this way to hang out with little old me.”

“Wow, a real gentleman.”

“I know, some people say I’m just dripping with chivalry. Now where to, sharpshooter?” If Lance’s heart ached at the nickname just a little bit, he didn’t say it.  _ Not anymore _ he thought to himself,  _ not for much longer, anyways. _ He put on his mask of ‘everything is fine, I am the best’ which wasn’t too hard, considering Pidge was here hyping him up for once; a nice change in pace from their usual banter.

“I was thinking, and we don’t have to, but…”

“But?”

“Olkari,” he stuttered out, not wanting to make Pidge frown but hoping his suggestion would interest her. He was here to spend time with her, to say his goodbyes, and he wanted her to remember their time together with sentimental memories. 

Pidge looked conflicted. She longed to see Olkari again, but she feared how she might react. She didn’t want Lance to see her unhappy because she knew he suggested it to  _ make _ her happy. She glanced from the disk to the former red paladin, her desperation winning out.

“Yeah, yeah Olkari sounds good. Do you want to do the honors?” She offered him the rod, but he shook his head and told her to do it instead.

“You have the better memory of there than I do, I assure you,” he patted her hand. Pidge agreed, but didn’t say so out loud. Not for the first time, she noticed how different their interactions were today-- how different Lance felt. The last thing she wanted to do was push him, because she didn’t think he would be able to take that today.  _ He just looks so tired _ , she mused.

She took a deep breath and touched her finger to the rod, thinking only of Olkari as she remembered their first visit. The trees, the people, the wonderful tech they used, the way the earth felt, the way the very air felt: all of it she poured into the disk. With each thought, the device glowed brighter and brighter until suddenly, from the center, light burst outward and consumed the room. The blue stretched across from wall to wall, covered the entire floor and enveloped even Lance and Pidge. The color then began to shift into greens and greys, trees shimmering into existence from nothing. In moments, Lab 5A had been transformed into Olkari in the peak of its life. Lance reached out to touch a vine and to his surprise felt the plant beneath his finger tips. He couldn’t believe that the device had the power to create this kind of realism. He looked at Pidge, who was marveling at everything with glossy eyes, and he could feel her loss. She missed Olkari.

He gasped as he noticed what else the disk had done.

“Pidge, your armor,” he gaped as he saw her standing there in her paladin gear.

“You too, Lance,” she said in equal wonder. They fell quiet, taking in the new scenery. He missed this. He missed going on missions on alien planets, finding whole civilizations with an entirely different way of life, learning about where he was and what he was doing, and most of all he missed the people he did those things with. Pidge, clad in paladin armor, standing before him now was a reminder of all else he had lost when Allura died. He trailed his fingers along the lab table, which had turned into a rather convincing tree root. His heart thrummed with grief again.

“If you had been able to say goodbye to Olkari, to Ryner, what would you have said?” He didn’t meet her eyes as he spoke.

Pidge was taken aback by the desperation in the question, and then she became thoughtful.

“I guess I would have said thank you. For all that they’ve done and for who they helped me become. I would have told them that this wouldn’t be the end of all that they’ve done, just a setback. That they’ve created a powerful history and will now make an epic future. Something like that,” she ended with a bit of jest in her voice, trying to lighten the emotion she had put into her earlier words. Lance smiled, rolling her answer over in his head. Gratitude, goodbyes.

They explored worlds they had been to for hours, swapping stories from solo escapades and discovering what they didn’t get to see. Lance showed Pidge The Frozen Planet and what he could remember of the Mer, while she showed him the trash waste land she had been stuck on. Lance joked, Pidge laughed, and for a moment everything felt okay. He forgot about the pain that had been plaguing him like a thorn stuck his side and wondered if he would be able to feel joy like this every day. Then Lance remembered he still had more people to leave, and he told Pidge he really must be going, his family must miss him, that farm life was an everyday commitment. And she said of course, but her heart ached as something strange told her that this wouldn’t happen again.

He made his way to the door after a side armed hug. He smiled back at her one last time.

“And Pidge? Thank you.” Gratitude, goodbyes.


	4. Stories

Penthos hovered by a wailing woman who cried out for her lost mother, the most beautiful flowers covering the room from friends and family and people who cared. But even then, his thoughts were of Lance and his grief. 

_ Please don’t make me do it _ , he despaired as tears welled up and vanished from his ghostly form.

For the first time in centuries, the reason for his weeping was not that of the one he stood next to, but because he now felt the severity of his own deeply horrific pain. In a sterile, white room that wreaked of death, the spirit of lamentations began to lament.

-

Lance made his way to the kitchen on the IGF-Atlas, since Kinkade had told him he would find Hunk there-- to no one’s surprise. He also explained that a very important intergalactic delegate dinner was being held in the accompanying dining hall, hence Shiro would be in attendance.  _ Two birds, one stone _ , Lance thought grimly. He shook his head, not believing the thought he just had, how cruel and detached it had felt. Grief was making a monster of him.

He hurried through the halls, sensing his time to reunite with Penthos was all too quickly coming upon him yet he still had so many things to say. To Shiro, to Hunk… to Keith. Keith. That would be a very hard goodbye indeed. 

His gait changed from a fast walk into a full on sprint as he made his way to the kitchen. A very polite Shay held the door for him as she exited the room.

“Very nice to see you, Lance, Hunk is right inside,” she simpered warmly. He said hello and gave her an exuberant expression in return before darting inside. He felt bad about cutting their interaction short but this was more important. Hunk saw him first and almost tripped over his feet moving to hug him.

“Lance! Oh, it’s so great to see you buddy, come try this sorbet I’ve been making,” he practically dragged Lance into the kitchen, handing him a spoon while at the same time shouting orders to the rest of his kitchen staff. “Romelle! I’m going to take a break, but if you burn any of the pastries I  _ will _ know it was you and I’ll make sure you won’t get the chance to even look at the oven for a week!” Romelle’s back went straight as she saluted Hunk.

“Yes, Master Chef Hunk!” She quickly pulled a stool up to the oven and watched its contents with the eyes of hawk. Lance ticked an eyebrow, bemused, as Hunk took him to sit down at the kitchen bar.

“Master Chef Hunk?” He fixed his friend with a light-hearted smirk. Hunk blushed, and waved a hand at his friend.

“What can I say, it’s my job now. Try the sorbet! It’s going to taste fruity but also kind of like the color lavender- don’t ask- and the main ingredient is Altean juneberry so go on and give it a taste,” he started to reach for the spoon himself, but Lance sighed and beat him to it. He shoved the spoon into his mouth and melted. He could taste the color lavender.

“Hunk, my dude, you’ve outdone yourself. Those delegates won’t know what hit them.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder before going in for another bite. He would have been shining if he hadn’t thought about how much Allura would have liked it.  _ She  _ **_will_ ** _ like it _ he reaffirmed to himself. Hunk’s excited expression lost some of its intensity as he regarded Lance with a more observant eye, saw the faraway look in his blue eyes and the bags under them. His skin didn’t shine and he just looked dull, which Lance was anything but.

“How are you holding up, Lance? I know it’s not easy. I’m worried about you, though, we’re all still here and you’re miles away on your farm. Which is fine, I just, ugh we miss you buddy. I never thought I’d say it, but I’m saying it: I miss space. I miss cleaning healing pods with you and training with you. I don’t miss almost dying with you though that’s- that wasn’t fun. I’m rambling aren’t I? I’m going to just. Stop. Rambling, I mean. Right now. Stopping,” he chuckled nervously. He’d been waiting for Lance to cut him off with a joke or some declaration of his own greatness like he’d usually do, but he was only met with quiet. With patience. Lance had been hanging on his every frantic word, like he’d never hear them again. The yellow paladin’s expression fell even more. Lance, sensing his silence was causing his friend distress, began speaking at a volume that matched Hunk’s.

“I’m okay! I’m going to be okay, it’s all going to be okay,” he paused, realizing how ominous his words sounded, and scrambled to make it seem like he wasn’t planning something life changing, “because time heals all wounds, or whatever. And I miss you too, Hunk. I miss all of you guys. Being miles apart doesn’t change the fact that team Voltron is my family.” The mention of family soothed any fears Hunk had been accumulating. He grew wistful, thinking back to days of malfunctioning food goo machines and space mall escapades. The stories he’d tell his kids someday, no doubt. Hunk could wait a long time to have kids for sure, but he knew that he’d make certain whatever kids he would have called Lance their uncle. He loved his family, his Voltron family, and the family he would someday have. In that moment, with Lance acting so on edge, Hunk found comfort thinking about family.

Lance put another spoonful of sorbet in his mouth, relishing the way it dissolved cooly onto his tongue. He tried not to think about how this might be his last meal. 

Hunk, as if sensing Lance’s need to savor food, immediately took action.

“So we’re having this delegate dinner in about an hour- Shiro is hosting, I’m obviously cooking- would you like to join us? You don’t have to, but I think you’ll really love what I’ve done to the Aruisan risotto,” Hunk winked at his friend, trying very hard not to come off as desperate despite the fact that he really wanted Lance to come. His internal monologue was very loud:  _ please please please- _

“Alright, I’ll come. You had me at dinner,” Lance agreed easily, but a stone sunk to the bottom of his stomach with a cold weight. He didn’t have time to spare for sitting down and meeting with stuffy aliens with whom he had no connections with. But if going meant that Hunk would be happy, then we would of course be in attendance.  That was his main objective, leave his friends with joyous memories of him before he wouldn't be able to make new ones with them.

“We’ve got time then, while I cook you can fill me in on what’s going on at your farm,” Hunk pushed subtly for his friend to take the lead on the conversation while he worked.

“I hope you don’t mind hearing a thousand stories about Nadia and Sylvio then!”

“It would be my honor to hear even a tenth of them.”

The pair fell into a comfortable groove as Hunk went from station to station preparing the meals and Lance danced around the remaining kitchen staff to follow him like an eager puppy. When Hunk chopped carrots, Lance told him all about his father’s newfound ‘friendship’ with Kaltenecker. When Hunk seasoned the steaks, Lance regaled him with tales of his niece and nephew pulling pranks on various family members. Every member of his family was featured in one sentence or another: Marco had taken up playwriting, Luis had been learning metalworking to craft jewelry for Lisa, Rachel was considering applying to nursing school, Veronica was close to a class promotion, and his mom...

“Mom’s been working really hard to make sure we don’t forget where we came from. Losing our house was hard, but nothing has been harder than losing Abuelita, especially for mom. I just wish-” Lance was cut off as Romelle ran through them, carrying a hot tray of pastries meant to be served as an alternative desert to the sorbet. Hunk put the finishing garnish on the individual bowls of risotto just as Shay came in to collect them; an hour had passed by already.

“I’m sorry Hunk, I didn’t even give you a chance to talk,” Lance hid his head sheepishly behind his arm, scratching his hair. He hadn’t realized how much time had gone by.

“No, no I’m glad you shared with me. It feels like I’m part of the family! Now give me a moment so I can switch out my uniform,” he said, gesturing to his stained attire, “and then you can finish your story as we head over to the banquet hall. Shiro’s going to be thrilled to see you.” Hunk carefully took off his toque, putting it a glass case and patting it before ripping his apron off and throwing it into a nearby hamper. At Lance’s confused face, Hunk recited as if from a book, “a chef must respect his hat, the apron is of no consequence.” He did not elaborate further.

They made their way out of the room as Hunk explained that normally he’d stay in the kitchen and keep working, but Shiro wanted him to be there to explain the food and hopefully encourage the delegates to dedicate help to relief efforts with his ‘heartwarming personality.’

He forgot to ask Lance what he had been saying earlier.

_ I wish that I didn’t have to see her cry. _

-

Penthos trailed behind the duo as Hunk got his turn to talk. To the untrained eye, their contagious laughter was akin to pure happiness. But Penthos was cursed with the ability to see further, to feel the truth. Lance looked gleeful, but his heart was filled with hurt. Talking about his family came naturally, but it took every fibre of his being not to cave in and think about Allura, and in turn, who he was leaving behind to bring her back. His goodbyes were actually increasing the potency of his grief, and Penthos was finding it harder to disappear and console some grieving widow or fired employee as Lance’s pain kept drawing him back in. Penthos, not for the first time that day, began to feel very apprehensive. 


	5. Friend and Hero

“Then Shay  _ caught  _ me as I slipped off the fridge and Sal almost started crying-- man, you should have seen it, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder in my life. Did almost throw up, but I didn’t so,” Hunk straightened his shirt as he held the door for his friend, “I think I’ve finally evolved.” Lance listened intently to the stories Hunk told him, laughed when he thought he should laugh, and prayed that one day Hunk could tell such colorful tales about him to his friends when he was gone.

The delegates were running a bit late, so Shiro was the only one seated at the long, golden table. He stood quickly when he saw Lance walk in the door.

“Lance! Welcome back to the Atlas, how are you doing?” He wore a large smile across his face, pleasantly surprised to see his teammate. Lance approached his idol cautiously. Ever since he had failed to understand Shiro’s cry for help in the astral plane, he felt distanced from him. He felt like he had his one shot to redeem himself for everything he had not become and he blew it, making a mix of guilt and admiration swirl in his heart whenever he came near his former leader. Shiro did not know of his inner turmoil, he had put those troubling memories behind him as best he could, and shook Lance’s hand with warmth and sincerity. Lance plastered a grin unto his face.

“Did we miss you winning over the delegates? That’s fast work, even for you,” Lance started, being the first to break the handshake, “you didn’t even give me a chance to try and swoon them.” Shiro played into the joke, chuckling.

“I didn’t even know you were coming! If I had, I would have made sure there was a stage for you to perform on.”

“You’re telling me that with all the magic it took to get you here, you’re not psychic or even a little bit clairvoyant?”

“Allura did the best she could!”

At the mention of the princess, the air turned cold and lost its playfulness. Lance winced, not wanting to ruin the moment, but found he couldn’t muster up the courage to speak again. Thankfully, Hunk saved them all from that fate.

“Maybe Coran can try then,” he said nervously before changing the conversation, “seriously though, Shiro, where are all the delegates?”

Shiro tilted his head, letting out a puff of air. He looked annoyed.

“They contacted me just a few ticks before you walked in and said that they’ll be running a bit late. Then they ended the call before I could ask why. I swear that I heard bottles popping in the background, so I’m pretty sure I have an idea of where they could be,” he said dryly, agitated by their lack of professionalism. Lance thought this was oddly perfect for his own situation.

“Well, maybe we can enjoy an appetizer while you wait? Just the three of us, just something small?” Lance asked, batting his eyes hopefully. 

_ It’ll be easier this way, I won’t have to fight for his time. _

Shiro nodded slowly, mulling over the offer.

“That sounds nice, Lance. Hunk, would you mind grabbing us something from the kitchen?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” Hunk saluted before walking out.

“I told you not to call me that, Hunk!”

“Of course Sir! I mean Shiro!”

Shiro shook his head with a sigh, watching the yellow-paladin-turned-intergalactic-chef scurry out of the room. Nostalgia danced in his eyes as he recalled days when they had fought alongside each other, depended on each other, thought of themselves as equals.

“After Voltron, coming back here, I didn’t expect things to change so much. In space we were a team, we all deferred to each other. But on the Atlas, even after all we’ve been through together, people are slipping back into the way things were in the Garrison all those years ago. I want them to be better than that, I want us to be better than that. Things are different.”

“Of course they’re different, Shiro. You pilot a warship that can transform into something larger and arguably more deadly than Voltron, and Earth is becoming the number one pitstop for aliens everywhere. On a scale of 1-10 on the ‘that’s different’ scale, it’s like night and day. And for what it’s worth, I’ll never call you sir. Maybe when you’re 70, so in a couple years,” Lance replied smoothly, relishing in the fact that Shiro chose to confide in him. He felt the guilt he’d put on himself all those months ago lift itself just slightly from his stomach. The white-haired pilot sheepishly touched the back of his head, though finding comfort in his companion’s words.

“Hey now, don’t call me old. You may think you’re safe on that farm of yours but I can and will order Veronica to go back and make you run laps til you drop if you keep up this disrespect,” he spoke in jest, his words holding about as much weight as a kilogram of feathers. Lance snorted, dropping into a nearby chair and watched as Shiro followed suit. Without the looming threat of universal destruction, they managed to achieve a casual banter like never before. Lance had always seen Shiro as, well, a hero. A soldier, a martyr. He was now just beginning to realize another side of his companion, the one that was light-hearted and casual, and he appreciated him even more greatly for it. They exchanged jokes and small tales of everyday life until Hunk came back, his arms full of some small delicacy. Hunk removed the metal dome lid from atop the plate and announced what he had brought back with him, but suddenly Lance couldn’t hear over the sound of his own heartbeat. He could only look into his warped reflection displayed on the metal and see what he had become. The Altean markings that were not his own, the deep purple bags beneath his red tinged eyes, the dry and flaking skin that ringed his lips. He looked like a mess, to put it bluntly. Thoughts came unbidden into his head, horrible little nothings that rang from ear to ear.

_ Allura would be ashamed. _

_ It’s a good thing you’re going, because it doesn’t look like you’d last much longer. _

_ You were never good enough for her. _

His breathing picked up slightly, but he fought to keep his internal struggle from showing on his face. He didn’t want his friends to know that some soul-crushing force inside of him was tearing at his heart. The grief flared to life within his chest, now accompanied by the grievous self-doubt he tried so hard to run from. Lance needed to escape his own head and he forced himself to tune back into the conversation, to forget his predicament and his flaws for a moment.

“Keith was so flustered when Acxa asked him to lead their relief efforts--”

“Why was he flustered?” Lance asked, snapping his neck to look at Shiro, his panic temporarily subsided.

“Because Zethrid was standing right behind her with the most ‘I eat puppies for breakfast’ kind of expression. He didn’t know if they wanted to follow him or trick him into walking off a cliff,” Shiro replied. He shook his head, “poor Keith.” Hunk huffed beside him, popping what looked like a mushroom into his mouth. He clearly felt that there was nothing poor about Keith.

Lance noticed that relief washed over him when Shiro confirmed that Keith wasn’t crushing on Acxa.

_ One issue at a time, please Lance. _

“So that’s where he’s been? Gallivanting with Lotor’s ex-generals?” He tried to keep his volume low, like he wasn’t disconcerted by this knowledge. 

“Yeah, they’re trying to help all the people who’ve been affected by the Galra. The generals are just trying to make up for what they’ve done,” Hunk clarified, shooting Lance an unreadable look.

“They still tried to kill us. Multiple times,” Lance grumbled, unconvinced of their change in heart.

“Lance, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re worried about Keith,” Shiro said amused.

“Worried about Keith and his mullet? No way, he can take care of himself. Nope, not worried-- No! I’m just concerned that we, collectively here, are okay with any of us working with those  _ fiends,”  _ Lance sputtered, unbelieving of the suggestion, “I’m more worried about Kosmo than Keith.”

“Sure, buddy, whatever you say. But it’s fine, they’re fine. If it makes you feel better you could probably go visit him sometime this week. Last I heard they’re stationed at a system not too far from Daibazal if you’re itching to go,” Hunk offered casually. At least Lance now knew where he had to go to say goodbye to the black paladin.

“Maybe I will,” he said snippily, trying and failing to not make a big deal out of it. They sat in silence for a second, picking at the appetizer Hunk had made. An incoming transmission announced that the delegates were landing at the Garrison and would be arriving soon, and thus Hunk left to rouse his kitchen crew. Once again, Lance was left alone with Shiro. 

Lance glanced at a clock on the wall, already knowing he had spent far too much time gossiping with Shiro and Hunk. He would have to skip the dinner he’d been really looking forward to if he wanted to say everything that needed to be said. He turned to Shiro, hoping the older pilot would understand. He needed to get something off his chest.

“Shiro, I’ve never gotten the chance to say what an honor it has been to work with you all these years, despite how crazy everything got. At the Garrison, you were my hero. I looked up to you like no one I had ever known. You gave a lecture one time at a class I was in and I thought that I would never be able to achieve what you had become. Then Voltron happened, and you became something better than my hero. You became my friend. I want you to know that, that I think of you like that,” Lance managed to finish his sentiments without crying, though he did feel his throat begin to close. He was about to apologize for all the trouble he caused when a bewildered looking Shiro tentatively pulled the boy into a hug, cutting off his next sentence.

“Hey, you’re my friend too, Lance. And you may not realize it, but you’re just as much a hero as I am. You’re a defender of the universe who has saved so many lives in a small amount of time. You’ll  _ always _ be a hero in my eyes,” Shiro spoke softly. He understood in some part that Lance had been hurting since Allura died, but he tried his best to be there for Lance right in that moment. He suddenly felt a little guilty for not checking up on him as well as he should have after getting back to Earth, still feeling slightly responsible for his well-being. Lance took a deep breath, feeling calm for the first time in months.  _ Maybe I can… _

They pulled apart quickly after an emergency alert sounded from Shiro’s new wrist communicator. He pulled up the call on a hologram with a single swipe, and Keith’s panicked face came into view. 

“Shiro! How fast can you send a lion to my coordinates?”

“I- Keith, what?”

“We’re trying to help a liberated planet just a few systems over from Earth, but the inhabitants don’t believe that we’re with Voltron. They took Zethrid and Acxa captive until we can prove that we are who we say we are. How fast can you send a lion?” Keith’s face was smeared with dirt but didn’t appear injured; nevertheless, Shiro started grimacing anyways. This was a problem. Pidge was… somewhere, Hunk was occupied, he had this dinner to host and--

“Shiro, I can go. Everyone else is busy and you know I can do this,” Lance answered the unproposed question the Atlas captain had swirling through his mind, his face slipping into a composed countenance.

“Are you sure? I can ask Hunk or Pidge, you haven’t stepped foot in the red lion since…”

_ Since Allura died. _

“I’ll be fine, plus I’ve got nothing else to do. Throw your dinner party or whatever, I got this.”

Shiro put his human hand on Lance’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, thinking of him not as an emotionally compromised teenager, but as a soldier. Falling back into his old mindset was all too easy, especially when threats were still hidden under every rock that they turned over too fast.

“I trust you. Now go, your lion is in Hanger 3. Good luck, Lance.” 

“I don’t need luck, I’ve got charm,” Lance responded with suave. Keith, who had been bickering with Ezor, refocused on the call with surprise in his voice.

“Lance? You’re coming out? Alright, see you soon, don’t get sidetracked please,” he added with mirth before ending the call. The screen showed Keith with a small smile on his face before turning blue and retreating back to Shiro’s wrist. Hunk came ambling back in, followed by his crew of chefs and their carts of food.

“Who’s ready to-- oh no, no what’s wrong?” Hunk’s face fell when he saw how serious Shiro and Lance appeared. Lance sighed, giving his friend a hug.

“I’ve got to go help Keith, so I’m going to miss the dinner. I’m sorry Hunk, I know you wanted me to come,” he turned his eyes away from his friend, not wanting to see his disappointment.

_ Allura wouldn’t make Hunk feel so upset. _

“No, I understand, Keith comes before sorbet. We’ll always have time for another dinner,” he said as he returned Lance’s hug with strong arms.

“That’s right. Another time,” Lance said, but his voice lacked conviction.

He said his goodbyes to Shiro, Hunk, Shay, Romelle and the rest of the motley staff before running out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. He wasn’t going to cry.

He wasn’t, he told himself he wouldn’t.

_ I’m really sick of crying. _

-

Penthos had carried a small bit of hope inside his heart when he had not been called by sorrow to Lance’s side in several hours. He’d taken that as a sign that his friends were finally successful in helping ease the grief Lance had been holding in his chest, that he’d be able to let Allura go and live his own life once again. But as he felt that familiar  _ snap _ that yanked him back to Lance, saw the tears cascading down his face, touched the heavy regret he was harboring in his soul-- he let that hope fall away lifelessly before it began transforming into pity.

_ Poor, poor Lance. _


	6. Memory Interlude

The red lion did not let Lance in.

Not because she didn’t care, not because she thought Lance wasn’t a worthy paladin or any number of perilous reasons that danced through her paladin’s head.

She didn’t let him in because she had read his thoughts, and she knew that in doing this she would be letting him take one more step to the ending he wanted to fulfill. The red lion did not want her paladin to meet Allura’s fate, no matter how much she missed the strange connection they had shared.

She would not be the one to let her paladin die.

Lance turned to the blue lion, who sat not too far away from the red lion, and was met with a similar reaction. A momentary flare of life that dimmed away as soon as she discovered what was going through his head. She mourned the loss of Allura as her paladin but was not about to let Lance sacrifice himself for the same ending.

He grew frustrated and marched straight up to the red lion, pulling out his trump card.

“Look,” he started, trying to hide how upset he was, “I love you, but I don’t care if you think it’s a bad idea. It’s my choice, and like it or not but one day you will thank me because I  **know** it’s the right choice. She deserves to be here more than anyone.”

He felt the fire of disapproval stir in the back of his mind, sent from Red herself.

“Also,” he added, “Keith needs me. He needs us. So even though you don’t want me to do what I’m going to do  _ regardless _ if you let me in our not, you might as well help me help him out of whatever predicament he threw himself in,” he stood tall, firm in his stance and firm in his decision.

A beat of silence hung in the hanger, before the red lion’s head dropped reluctantly to let him in.

“Thank you,” he said before rushing inside to his pilot’s seat. His brain tingled as flames burst in his head as if to say  _ I’m mad at you but I’m not going to let him die because of it. _

“I hear you, now let’s get this party started.”

Lance’s hands flew across the controls as his lion completely sprung to life, the glow of a dim red light bathing the cockpit. He maneuvered the lion to stand before blasting out of the open hangar door. He let out a familiar whoop as the red lion sped from the Earth’s surface and spiraled into space.

Back inside the Garrison, the blue lion let out a sad purr,

Shiro welcomed the (tipsy) delegates of the Zimboris system,

Hunk joked with Shay about food,

Pidge pushed her brother off of a work bench,

And Penthos dared to dream that this ‘Keith’ could fix the problem they all faced. 

-

Lance had not realized how much he had missed the familiarity of piloting Red, the power he felt when was connected to something larger than himself. In one way, she helped get him out of his funk: he was soothed by the warmth she sent to him. In another way, he was painfully reminded of the events that transpired last time he had been seated in this chair. 

He remembered the way her kiss had felt against his lips, how his heart fell into pieces when she said “I love you” for the first and last time. He remembered how tears had stung his eyes as he watched her walk with Honerva into the brightest light he had ever seen in his life. He was stuck in that moment as he blindly flew towards the planet Keith was momentarily trapped on, unwilling to let go of the Princess. 

When Red noticed how her paladin crumbled within in seconds, she urged him to recall a soothing memory that also happened in the very chair he sat in. With a purr, his heart slowed as he began to think of a different part of that same day.

_ Lance hadn’t left the cockpit of the red lion, scared to face the team with the state he was in. He couldn’t stop crying, but the paladins of Voltron were meant to be strong. Not weak like he was being. But how could he have courage to be a legendary defender when the woman he thought he was destined to share his life with just vanished into stardust? She was his everything, and now he felt lost. He had just got her to see him in that same way, they just were starting to grow with each other. What was he to do now? What god could he pray to to bring her back? He needed a hug, he needed someone to hold him like she would have. He needed to disappear. He needed… _

_ Red’s head started to lean downwards, her maw opening. Someone was coming into his lion. He scrubbed his gloved hand across his face, trying to get rid of his grief’s evidence. Too late. _

_ His vision was blurred, but he was able to make out the figure of a man wearing red armor. Keith. _

_ “Hey, Lance, Red just let me in… It’s been hours, do you want to come out?” Keith spoke uncharacteristically soft, the roughness with which he barked out commands absent from his voice. Lance wanted to look up and say “okay” but found he couldn’t uncurl himself out of the ball he was in on the pilot’s chair. The red lion sent Keith a push in the back of his mind, and the black paladin kneeled down to get a better look at his friend. _

_ “Lance, it’s going to be okay. We’re all going to miss her, but we have each other. Let us help you, please come out,” Keith whispered, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. _

_ “I don’t know how to live without her,” Lance’s voice cracked as he spoke. Keith felt tears prick at his own eyes, unsure of how to save his friend from the grief that was suffocating him. _

_ “You can get through this. She isn’t gone completely, she’s here,” Keith touched Lance’s face, his thumb running past his Altean markings, “and she’s here.” He put a hand on Lance’s chest, just above his heart. _

_ “It’s not enough,” Lance insisted, but he didn’t jerk away from Keith’s touch.  _

_ “Maybe not right now,” he pulled Lance into his arms, the first hug they’ve ever shared, “but I’ll be here to help you.” _

_ Lance slowly wrapped his arms around Keith and held tight, feeling as though he might disappear at any moment just like she did. They didn’t move for what seemed like forever, before Pidge came in and joined them. Then Hunk, then Shiro. They didn’t talk, just stayed close, all save for Keith who spoke small reassurances into Lance’s ear. _

_ “You won’t be alone, Lance. Not ever. You’ve got us. You’ve got me.” _

Lance gasped as he came out the memory, his dashboard blinking wildly and telling him that they were five minutes away from the planet Keith was at currently. He took a few deep breaths, calm flooding back into his body. Keith didn’t know it, but he had saved Lance from himself that day. From the monster crawling in his soul. The fix wasn’t permanent, but Lance found himself craving Keith’s hand against his face once again, the warmth of his body wrapped around his, the comfort he provided. His heart leaped as his resolve hardened. He was going to help Keith like Keith helped him, and then he would be free to bring back Allura.

_ Help Keith. _

_ Hold Keith. _

Lance shook himself free of his thoughts as he regained control of his lion. 

“I’m coming for you, buddy.”

-

_ They all had left the Red Lion together, sullen but their chins pointing upwards.  _

_ Keith had his hand firmly wrapped around Lance’s as they descended the ramp. _

_ They both noticed, they both no longer needed to cling to someone to restrain their grief. _

_ Neither made a move to drop their hands. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating as frequently! School just started up again for another rigorous semester so updates will be further apart but fear not, progress will be made. This chapter is short, yeah, but it's just being used to set up the events of the next chapter which might be more chaotic so I thought this would be a good balance. As always, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it.


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